


Bad boys (what're you goin' to do)

by girafe13



Series: Band of Brothers prompts [5]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Highschool AU, M/M, Motorcycle Kink, george doesnt care, no editing we post like men, prompt, ron is scary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 23:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girafe13/pseuds/girafe13
Summary: George did not know that he had a soft spot for bad boys."Army boots. Faded dark jeans. White t-shirt. Actual leather jacket. A pin that read “fuck off”. Aviators hung on his shirt’s collar.Finally, George stood up, and looked into the stranger’s eyes. His hazel eyes met dark, almost black eyes, intense gaze and long eyelashes. The stranger had thick brown hair and was still looking at him, unblinking.George gulped."Written for a prompt on tumblr!





	Bad boys (what're you goin' to do)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mols](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mols/gifts).



> Prompt by the lovely mols (richardwinters on tumblr) for a luzspeirs highschool AU! Thank you for the prompt, I hope you'll like it! :3

George Luz never really paid attention to rumors. 

 

Not that he didn’t hear them.

 

It was just easier to ignore rumors than to lose his precious time to run around and ask if they were true. Did Malarkey really steal the principal’s car for a joyride two years ago? Or did  Nixon really did spike the punch at the dance last year? Or even, did Liebgott and Webster were really caught making out in the library, even though they couldn’t stop fighting every time one of them blinked?

 

The point was, George did not care. 

 

That was why the first day of his last year, when he bumped into Ronald Speirs, he didn’t even flinch when he realized who he had ran into. 

 

“Hey, sorry, man,” George apologized immediately, bending over to retrieve his history book he dropped on the floor. “I was distracted, my bad.”

 

“It’s no problem,” the other guy answered, still standing. 

 

When George slowly got up, he took the time to detail the guy before him. 

 

Army boots. Faded dark jeans. White t-shirt. Actual leather jacket. A pin that read “fuck off”. Aviators hung on his shirt’s collar. 

 

Finally, George stood up, and looked into the stranger’s eyes. His hazel eyes met dark, almost black eyes, intense gaze and long eyelashes. The stranger had thick brown hair and was still looking at him, unblinking. 

 

George gulped. 

 

“Well. Glad you’re okay,” he managed, trying to look away. 

 

He found out he couldn’t. 

 

The guy finally blinked. “I’m Ron Speirs. I’m new.” He extended his arm. 

 

George hesitated only half a second before clasping his hand with Ron’s. “Nice to meet you. I’m George Luz.”

 

Ron’s hand was warm. Luz missed the reassuring weight of it as soon as it left his own. 

 

“So you’re new huh? When did you move?” asked George, genuinely curious. 

 

“Last month. I actually got  transferred for causing trouble ,” Ron smiled, a predatory smiled that showed off his pearly white teeth.  

 

George felt some sweat pool at his lower back. The residual heat from the end of the summer was not the cause. 

 

“This is… Uhm… Well, if you need any help, I could always show you around,” George said, shifting his weight on his other foot. 

 

Ron’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

 

It was George’s turn to be surprised. “Well… Yeah. You’re new. That must suck, especially at the beginning of the last year…” George shrugged. “So yeah, sure, why not?” 

 

Ron nodded, still looking puzzled, and walked past George. “I guess I will see you around,” he said. He did not look back. 

 

George did turn around to watch Ron leave. Strangely, people were letting him through, just like Ron was the other end of a magnet. 

 

“Yeah, I guess you will,” George mumbled, and made his way into his next class. 

 

* * *

 

A week or so later, Malarkey slided on the bench in front of him at lunch time. The cafeteria was mostly empty, some people preferring to go outside to enjoy the sun while they ate. George was sitting at a cafeteria table inside. He prefered to have his food untouched by gross insects, thank you very much. 

 

“Hey, Georgie. We need to talk,” said Malarkey, his tone grave. 

 

He settled his enormous lunchbox on the table. Soon, Penkala and Skip appeared with their equally large boxes, sliding beside Malarkey. 

 

“Are you breaking up with me?” asked George, reporting his attention to his textbook. 

 

He took a bite of his sandwich, completely focused on his task. Malarkey rolled his eyes while Skip and Penkala began bickering on who had the tastiest sandwich. 

 

“No, stupid. It’s about…” Malarkey stopped talking suddenly, which got George’s attention. 

 

George looked up from his book, and saw Malarkey looking around suspiciously. He then ducked his head and whispered. 

 

“I want to talk to you about Ronald Speirs.”

 

Penkala and Skip immediately stopped bickering and shuffled closer. 

 

“What about Ron?” George asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“You call him  _ Ron _ ?” asked Skip, now totally invested in the conversation. 

 

Skip turned to Penkala, dropping an arm on his shoulder. “He calls him Ron. It’s too late for him, now.”

 

Penkala shook his head, and pretended to wipe an imaginary tear. “He was so young.”

 

“Would you guys shut up and tell me what’s going on?” George asked, abandoning his sandwich. 

 

They stopped and turn to face him, suddenly very serious. George felt like he was in an intervention.

 

“Speirs is bad news. You wouldn’t know, because you don’t care about gossip, but--” started Skip. 

 

“--but Guarnere’s little brother’s cousin’s nephew’s teacher’s friend had Speirs in his class last year, and--” continued Penkala, only to be cut short by Malarkey.

 

“--And turns  _ out _ , the guy is downright a  _ criminal _ .”

 

They looked at George, waiting for a reaction. 

 

“Did… Did you guys rehearsed this?” asked George, barely containing his laughter. 

 

Malarkey slapped him across the arm. “Dude! This is serious! The guy said that Speirs went to juvie for thief and drug possession.”

 

George shrugged. “Ron is a nice guy. He helps me with Math homework. We hang out sometimes. That’s all.”

 

Skip rolled his eyes in sync with Penkala while Malarkey huffed a disbelieved laugh. 

 

“Yeah. Sure, buddy,” said Penkala, grabbing a bite of his sandwich. 

 

“What the hell! You guys, I’m telling you! He’s an okay dude! Didn’t try to kill me or anything,” protested George. 

 

“Not yet,” mumbled Penkala while returning George’s sandwich to him. 

 

Skip munched on his baby carrots. “Why are you so defensive?”

 

George blinked, trying to come up with an excuse, but nothing came to him. Why was he so defensive?

 

“One time, I heard that he offered a cigarette to a guy and when he accepted it, Ron beat him up,” added Malarkey. 

 

It was now George’s turn to roll his eyes. “Okay, guys, I think that’s enough.”

 

They shrugged, again at the same time, and Skip took another bite of his baby carrot, loudly chewing. 

 

“We’re just saying, Georgie. Be prudent, is all,” said Malarkey. “We don’t really know him. We don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

 

“And why would anything bad happen to George?” asked a voice at their left, at the other end of the table. 

 

The four men jumped on their seats, taken aback by Ron’ silent entrance. He was still wearing his leather jacket despite the heat. His shirt was a warm green that brought out his hair.

 

Not that George was looking or anything. 

 

“Ron! What a nice surprise!” he said, smiling at his three other friends, trying to hide his laughter when he took in their horrified faces. “Why don’t you come and eat with us?”

 

“Actually, we were going,” said Malarkey, standing up, followed closely by Skip and Penkala. “We’ll talk later, George, okay?” 

 

“Sure, sure,” answered George, already inviting Ron to sit where Malarkey was a second ago. 

 

When his friend had disappeared, Ron sat down and gave George a strange look. 

 

“Aren’t you… Going to ask?” he said after a while, taking out slowly his lunch out of his bag. 

 

George shook his head, still concentrating on his textbook. “Ask you what?”

 

They spent the rest of the lunch hour in comfortable silence, and if George felt Ron’s foot pressed up against his, he didn’t say anything. 

 

* * *

 

It was the last day of September, and George Luz was in completely over his head. 

 

He could not stop thinking about Ron. At school, he still hung out with his friends, but he spent most of his time with Ron, talking and exchanging views on teachers and homework, but also exchanging personal stories and anecdotes. George loved making Ron smile. Breaking that cold exterior always counted as a victory for George. 

 

After a month of getting to know Ron, George woke up one night in a sweat, clutching the covers. His chest was heaving and he was painfully hard in his pajama pants. 

 

George had just dreamed that Ron kissed him on the lips, then on his neck, right below his right ear where he was the most ticklish. The dream abruptly ended when the Ron in his dream put a hand on his tight, right beside his crotch, and George had suddenly woken up by a strangled sound.  He then realized that the sound came from  _ him _ .

 

He looked down, trying to catch his breath. George felt hot all over. He pushed back the cover, and whimpered when he realized that his reaction to the dream was still very present. 

 

“Go away,” he whispered. “I don’t like him like  _ that _ . It was just a dream.”

 

It seemed to work for a moment, and George thought about his algebra test coming up the next week. It helped, and he lied back down on the bed.  

 

When he finally fell asleep again, the dream was different. He was now holding hands with Ron, walking in the hallways of the school, kissing Ron’s cheek whenever he could manage. 

 

George woke up with a smile, and even though his dream faded away before he could remember it in its entirety, George could no longer ignore the nature of his feelings for Ron. 

 

He looked down to his pajama pants and frowned. 

 

“What the fuck, really?,” he said, sighing. “Hand holding does it now?” 

 

* * *

 

The next weeks were excruciating. He spent the better part of his days daydreaming about Ron, and the nights, actually dreaming about him. 

 

When Ron was close, George would catch himself looking at Ron a little longer than usual. In PE, George made a lot of effort to get his eyes off Ron’s arms and calves. 

 

George’s crush was killing him, especially when Ron was being extra friendly, or revealed something personal about himself.  One night, after a late study session at the library, Ron stretched back, making his shirt ride up his belly. George almost had a heart attack. 

 

“I want to tell you something,” Ron said one afternoon, just after school as they were walking to the bus stop. 

 

George nodded, trying to balance all his books in one hand, and his snack in the other. 

 

“Sure buddy,” he said, distracted by his calculus textbook who was sliding dangerously close to the edge of his pile. 

 

“The rumors you heard about me… They are not all true,” said Ron. 

 

George nodded, because he figured that rumors were stupid and embellished over time. 

 

“But,” continued Ron, “Some are true. Like how when I offered this guy a cigarette, I did punched him in the face right after.” 

 

George almost tripped. “What?”

 

Ron shrugged. “He wanted to climb on my motorcycle. I don’t let just anybody on my motorcycle.”

 

George’s eyes widened. “You have a motorcycle?” 

 

Ron’s eyebrows raised to his forehead. “I am revealing my dark past to you and that’s all you get from that?” 

 

George shrugged. “Well, if you punched him in the face, you had a good reason, and I’m guessing it wasn’t just because of the motorcycle.”

 

Ron’s stoic exterior was now melting away. “I… Yes, you’re right. He was my ex boyfriend.”

 

It was now George’s turn to be surprised. “Oh. That makes way more sense. He must have been a real jerk.”

 

Ron shrugged, his face now back to normal. “You could say that.”

 

They fell silent for a moment, the sound of their feet on the concrete resonating in the street. 

 

“So… Why did you tell me all this?” softly asked George, brushing Ron’s hand with his own. 

 

Ron looked dead ahead, refusing to meet George’s eyes. “I feel like I can tell you anything. You’re the only person who doesn’t judge me.” 

 

George blushed and didn’t add anything. His heart felt full. He felt closer to Ron that he ever did. He was flattered that Ron trusted him enough to talk about his past relationship. George felt something shift in the air, like planets were aligning themselves. He felt close to something, just like on the verge of an important discovery. 

 

Their hands kept brushing all the way to the bus stop, making George’s heart flutter every time.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, but Don, do you think that number five of the exam was true or false?” asked George, twisting his hands anxiously. 

 

Malarkey shrugged, the bags under his eyes more visible now they were in the sunlight, walking in the parking lot of the school. Their exams were finally over, and instead of staying inside to look over their notes, they had decided to walk a little outside. They really needed a breather. 

 

“I don’t know, man, I wrote down false,” answered Malarkey, sighing. 

 

“Me too, but I changed my answer, like, four times, and--” started George, rubbing his eyes, when he felt Malarkey’s hand on his chest, stopping him. 

 

“Holy shit,” said Malarkey. 

 

George opened his eyes, and what he saw left him with his jaw on the floor. 

 

Ronald Speirs was waiting, sitting back on a black motorcycle in the parking lot. He wore his black leather jacket, and even his pants were leather, tight on his legs. George’s mouth watered at the sight. His hair was slicked back and he was holding two helmets in his hands. Ron seemed focused, like he was looking for something, and suddenly, he spotted George. 

 

George gulped. He never would have thought he could be on the receiving end of such a gaze. 

 

Malarkey cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll go now. Bye George, try not to die.”

 

George shoved him as he went, and made his way quickly to Ron. Up close, he looked even better, the light in his eyes burning it seemed only for George. 

 

When he got to the motorcycle, George whistled low, turning around it to appreciate it more. Ron smirked and handed him a helmet. 

 

“Nice ride,” George said, taking the helmet. 

 

He tried to control his voice, but it was a lost cause. The sight of Ron, all in black leather and heavy boots, mounting a motorcycle, showing off his legs and predatory smile… It was almost too much for George. He felt his knees buckled under him as he realized that Ron was wearing a white shirt underneath his leather jacket, just as he walked straight out of one of George’s favorite 50’s movies. 

 

“Thanks. I just got her out of storage,” answered Ron in a low voice.  “Thought I’d take her for a spin. Want to come?” 

 

George scoffed, his heart skipping a beat. “Of fucking course, are you kidding me?” 

 

Ron smiled, this time amused, and put on his helmet on. “Well, hop on.”

 

George tried really hard for his mind not to go  _ there _ , but when he squeezed his head in the helmet and swung his leg up to climb on the motorcycle, his body extremely close to Ron’s, it was hard to think about anything else. 

 

Ron tapped him on the arm. “Grab my waist and hold on,” he said. George nodded, his head heavy because of the helmet, but happy that Ron couldn’t see him blush.

 

George grabbed at Ron’s waist, encircling him with his arm. He felt the heat from the engine as it started, the vibration reverberating in his bones. He grabbed tighter on Ron’s jacket, his fingers digging into Ron’s side. 

 

George felt butterflies in his stomach as Ron drove away from school, the motorcycle taking some speed as they went. At first, it was a bit awkward, but George learned really fast to lean in with Ron when he turned and to balance out when they were going in a straight line. It was exhilarating. George didn’t know what was making his heart beat faster, the speed or Ron’s ass slightly pressing into George’s crotch every time he shifted to turn. 

 

When they finally arrived at George’s home, George was high on adrenalin. The rush from the wind, the speed, having Ron  _ so  _ close to him… Ron cut the engine and removed his helmet, combing his hair quickly with his free hand. 

 

George climbed down the motorcycle, trying to get the helmet off, but failing miserably. 

 

“That was amazing!” he said nevertheless, bouncing on his feet. “I loved it!”

 

“What did you say? I can’t hear you,” said Ron, smirking. 

 

He climbed down the motorcycle, and walked close to George. He pulled hard on his helmet, grunting, finally breaking free. 

 

“I said, it was amaz-”

 

He was cut short by Ron grabbing him by the helm of his shirt and yanking him close, smashing his lips on his. George dropped the helmet on the ground, taken aback by Ron’s sudden boldness. George eagerly returned the kiss, all wind knocked out of him, trying to understand what was happening. His hand found the back of Ron’s head, deepening the kiss. Ron released the front of his shirt, and pressed his body even closer, making George’s head spin. 

 

Ron’s lips were soft, just like in his dreams - yes, dreams plural, now, they had kept multiplying-  and his hand on George’s cheek was firm and warm. George could feel Ron’s breath on his lips as they parted, slightly dizzy from the roller coaster of emotions he just experienced. 

 

“What… What was  _ that  _ for?” George asked, panting. 

 

Ron’s hair was a mess and his eyes were dark, even darker than usual. George shivered. He figured a while back that this predatory look was only for him, but to see it now so close, so personal it made the situation more real. 

 

“I  _ like  _ you, George,” answered simply Ron. “I just thought you should know that maybe I do punch people after I offer them cigarettes, but…” He slowly kissed the corner of George’s mouth, before continuing.  

 

“...but I  _ definitely  _ kiss people that ride my motorcycle.”

 

George huffed a laugh. “I hope I’m the only one that rides it,” he said, his heart thumping hard in his ribcage. 

 

Ron slowly blinked. “George. I don’t know if you realized, but you’re the only one who’s not scared of me.”

 

George shrugged. “What is there to be scared of?”

 

Ron smiled. George could feel he said the right thing. Ron’s eyes were now soft and happy. George pressed his forehead on Ron’s, not believing that it finally happened. 

 

“What took you so long, by the way?” George asked. “I was going crazy. I had dreams about you, you know?” 

 

Ron took a step back, and gave George a look. “Really? About me?” 

 

George blushed. “I-- I mean, yeah, but-- You know what, never mind.”

 

Ron grabbed George’s hands and squeezed them lightly. “I took my time because I wanted to be sure about you. Some people get close to me just to find out about my past. But you didn’t care.”

 

George smiled fondly, looking down at Ron’s hands. It was true. George himself had made some mistakes in the past. He had to look past them and look forward. 

 

“All you wanted to do was to know me, not the Speirs of the rumors. You live fully in the moment, and you don’t give a shit about people’s opinion,” continued Ron, his voice the softest George had ever heard. “I really appreciate that.”

 

George nodded, still blushing under all the compliments Ron was giving him. George was not used of receiving that much attention, and he felt like he was melting on the floor. 

 

“Well… I really don’t care for rumors,” George said, looking up to catch Ron’s gaze. “I really only care about you and your butt.”

 

Ron frowned. “What about my butt?” 

 

“It’s fucking amazing, that’s what it is,” George winked, and he grabbed Ron’s face into his hands and kissed him again. 

 

By the time the motorcycle’s engine started again, George’s lips were red and swollen, and he was squeezing the extra helmet in his arms. 

 

Ron did say that he was going to ride again with him. Ron also said that he loved George’s weight behind him, and couldn’t wait to take him for another ride. Maybe it would be longer, this time. Ron did say that the longer the ride, the longer the kisses. George couldn’t help but to feel incredibly giddy, and it’s only when he closed his bedroom door behind him that he realized something. 

 

Ron and him were now boyfriends. 

 

That night, George’s dreams were soft and loving, and when he woke up in the morning, he knew that his day would be exactly the same. 

 

* * *

 

 

After a few months of dating, Ron came to get George in his convertible. 

 

George couldn’t wait to learn what  _ that  _ meant. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are the air in my lungs! Thank you for reading!


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